


No Knights Here

by FHC_Lynn



Series: Broken Windows [32]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-08 03:22:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14096085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FHC_Lynn/pseuds/FHC_Lynn
Summary: Jazz demands a bedtime story from Sideswipe.





	No Knights Here

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bibliotecaria_D](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bibliotecaria_D/gifts).



> Tumblr prompt: Prowl/Sunstreaker, romantic comedy sudden epiphany kiss.

"Story time, Sideswipe."

Barely a minute after Sideswipe was abandoned by his potential 'facing partner for that worthy's ill-timed emergency, a mech Sideswipe vaguely recognized as a Commander Jazz sat at his table, thunking a bottle of Iaconi Red in front of him. Optics wide, Sideswipe tried to remember if his own stash had been anywhere visible during inspection. That Ironhide fellow was supposed to have been in charge of that. This Jazz mech was in the Special Operations division. _Fragging Primus_ , he thought, _they aren't on that wannabe-Decepticon trip again, are they? I swear, Sunstreaker will turn someone into shrapnel for grenades--_

"Stand down, mech. I ain't here to cut no one's vitals out. I got a question, though. I'm thinkin' that question being about your brother, you'd have an answer for me." Jazz pushed the bottle toward him with a grin.

Looking at the bright, cool blue of that visor above that wide, warm grin, Sideswipe felt less than reassured. "I bought him that fancy wax before we joined up. He's got a box of it--"

"It ain't contraband, and I'm not worryin' about his looks. Though, he surely _has_ them, it appears I'm late to that party. And that's what I wanna ask you about."

"Don't know what you mean. Sun ain't interested in having _parties_ ," Sideswipe responded back dryly. Because it was true, in a sense. Sunstreaker had always loved the way he looked, and he had always hated the way he got treated for it. So, Sunstreaker avoided crowds. Events, get-togethers. Not his thing. So no 'parties'. But Sideswipe had a feeling...

"I'm meanin' he's got play on the backside, and I ain' hittin' that when I suspect that if _he_ can't take me on, Prowl could. So, here's my question: how in Primus' name did those two start pluggin'? They've gotta be as different as two mechs can be." Jazz pointed at the bottle. "So, mech. You pour, an' you tell me a tale of a knight and a prince."

"Wow. What?"

"Don't play that game. They're just lucky I caught on to them. Prowl's one scary-smart mech, but he plays by the rules too much. Red Alert's the same damn way, but ol' Ironhide's a romantic at spark," Jazz said. Leaning back in the chair in such a way that he leaned on the table by Sideswipe, he propped his pedes on the table. "So share a drink and spin me a tale, mech."

Sideswipe licked his lips and eyed the bottle. He did not want to tell this mech about his brother, but if he knew none of the spec ops corps personally, the _reputation_ proceeded them. "I don't have a glass for you..."

"Mirage's glass works for me," Jazz beamed.

Sideswipe narrowed his optics at his unwanted guest. "Oh. He's one of yours, is he?"

"Of course. Now talk. You two are on the cannon fodder line-up. Prowl's an upwardly mobile officer."

Sideswipe shut his mouth and poured the damned mech a drink. Sunstreaker was going to kill him. "I don't know what you're hoping for. It's not some kind of creche-tale."

"Isn't it? Try me."

"Fine. They hated each other, first. Sun was an artist, right? Long before the war, some of Sunstreaker's gallery pieces got sent on tour. Prowl got stuck in charge of the security detail in Praxus," Sideswipe muttered. He moved to pour himself a glass, too. He would need it. Jazz took a long, slow pull from his glass, but Sideswipe knew the attention never wavered. "You mighta noticed Sun's not real good with... Well, with anyone. So he squirmed out of every security meeting, ignored every memo. I read them, because that's what I for. Business details."

"Before the war?" Jazz waved a hand, brushing his surprise aside. "Wow. Okay. Continue."

"Yeah, before," Sideswipe snapped and rubbed his face. "Anyway, Prowl decided to change his tactics. He shadowed Sunstreaker through the whole damned exhibit. He and his staff let no one they hadn't vetted anywhere near my brother. The side effect of which meant they spent a lot of time together. Alone. Arguing. Finally, I got to bear witness to the most messed up thing I'd ever seen in my life..."

"C'mon, mech. You can't stop the story there. How do mechs squallin' at each other get to fraggin'?" Jazz prompted when Sideswipe trailed off.

Sideswipe made a face at him, then downed the rest of the gifted high grade. "In the middle of a loud, ugly fight, in the middle of a _packed_ host gallery, Prowl turned around and walked his aft out. Said he wasn't drone, and he didn't have to take the abuse. An' Sunstreaker got this wild look in his optics. 'Cause the crowds--well, you know how mobs of mechs act."

"Started closing in like scraplets, did they?"

"Yeah. So Sunstreaker takes a good look around him and runs after Prowl, right. And he grabs one of those panels." Sideswipe nodded as Jazz flinched in sympathy. "Yeah. It was an _awesomely_ weird noise he made. Actually have nightmares of it. Sometimes. Anyway, Prowl whirls around, and his wings go up outta Sun's hands, and my dumbaft brother grabs Prowl's head and kisses him. Somebody broke a damn vase in the silence after that, and everybody jumped like they'd been shot."

"He-- Prowl-- Your _brother_ \--" Jazz's jaw fell as shock set in, and Sideswipe smirked. The officer shook his head. "You're tweakin' my circuits."

"Am not. My brother kissed Prowl in the middle of the damned gallery, and Prowl grabbed his aft. I think he got reprimanded by the Ministry of Security after he dragged Sunstreaker out of there. I didn't get my brother back until afternoon the next day. And he was _floatin'_."

"Wow. That's... Wow. You're serious?

"Yep. They got quieter after that. The to-do died down, but they kept a romance goin' somehow," Sideswipe said. He poured more of the Iaconi Red into his glass. "Don't share that, okay? It's not... As slag started burnin' off, they got even quieter. And now, we know Sun's a kind of liability to Prowl, but they're happy, mech."

"That's why I asked, Sideswipe. Ironhide likes his secret romances, but I like knowin' where all the cards are."

"So you won't..."

"Interfere? Naw. I will give Prowl some pointers on keepin' it lowkey. That's all."

"Thanks, mech." Sideswipe eyed Jazz a moment, thoughtfully. "You, uh, need to run do that now?"

"Beg your--? Huh," the mech drawled. Sideswipe couldn't tell where his optics were behind the visor, but he _felt_ them running over his body. "Pour me another, an' we can visit some notions."


End file.
